


His Fate, Tinted Red

by isuilde



Category: Free!
Genre: I'm not even sure what this is, M/M, Major Character Injury, Pining, Soulmate AU, except it's not really an AU?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 21:17:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1662752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isuilde/pseuds/isuilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto was twelve when his mother sat him down on her lap for the first time since he was five, and told him about how meeting your soulmate brought in colors into your world, and how lucky he was to have found his soulmate at a young age of twelve. </p>
<p>By the time he was twelve and a half, Makoto had learned the names of all colors, preferred blue skies over grey skies, understood why goldfish were called goldfish, loved the color green, had an odd fascination with the color red, and wished he would one day figure out who, among the countless kids attending the swim meet, was his soulmate.</p>
<p>(or, that one soulmate AU prompt where everyone is born into a world of black-and-white, and only their soulmate could bring colors to their world, as well as take it away.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Fate, Tinted Red

**Author's Note:**

> I'm alive. Barely.
> 
> Also, uhh, remember that one prompt about colors and soulmates that had been going around on Tumblr? [This one](http://apharthurkirklands.tumblr.com/post/83699126169/apharthurkirklands-au-where-everything-is-black), I mean. Yeah, so this fic's based on that.
> 
> Okay, gratitudes to where it's due: first and foremost, to my ever lovely beta, [wailordes](http://wailordes.tumblr.com/) (Tai-chan, I completely forgot what your AO3 account is, I'm sorry ;A;), who took the pain in reading and editing this whole thing for me so that it could be remotely enjoyed even though she got really busy. Thank you, Tai-chan! Also thanks to [sospi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/unsospiro) for putting up with my whining, ooops.
> 
> Last but not least, this fic is dedicated to my [incredible waifu Muse](http://dreampod.tumblr.com/), for all her arts that nearly send me into cardiac arrest every. Single. Time. <3
> 
> This fic was finished just after I had the unfortunate experience of meeting someone who hates my ship really vocally in real life, and having to spent the day in her company, so I apologize in advance if the last parts of this fic seemed rushed or OOC or something, I really wasn't in the best mood (and I was already rather exhausted, it was past midnight hahaha).

Colors had flooded his entire world in an exhilarating rush at the tender age of twelve.

It was the red, at first. Always the red. He’d blinked when he bumped into one of the boys from another swim club in one of the swim meets, and the corner of his eyes caught a streak of brilliant, beautiful red flowing past him, and Makoto had frozen in place because  _what was that_ ?

When he remembered that moment now, Makoto thought of the times when he watched Haruka paint—colors, slowly filling all the previously black-and-white spaces, from one corner to another. Colors, slowly flooding into his world, rushing in the way waves would lap at the sand on the beach, leaving striking brightness that erased the dull black-and-white he’d known since he was born. It was the red, at first—the red lines on his bag, the red wristband Haruka wore, the red polkadots on Ran’s skirt and Ren’s shorts as they caught up to him. Then the blue followed suit—Haruka’s bag, the water in the pool, Aki’s ribbon—and nearly collided with the green—the twins’ shirts, the lonely potted plant on the corner of the changing room—and then the yellow, the purple, the brown, the gold, the silver—

Everything had been so fascinating, and Haruka had given him odd looks all day because he hadn’t been able to stop touching things and people and everything.

Makoto had been twelve when his world suddenly turned colorful. He had been twelve when he tried to explain to Haruka how everything wasn't just shades of black-and-white, how everything was stark bright and different and startling, and Haruka couldn’t understand one bit. He had been twelve when he stepped outside of the pool facility after the meet and looked up and forgot to breathe because the sky was a complete breathtaking layers of reds and oranges and yellows and blues, and Makoto promptly cried.

Makoto was twelve when his mother sat him down on her lap for the first time since he was five, and told him about how meeting your soulmate brought in colors into your world, and how lucky he was to have found his soulmate at a young age of twelve.

By the time he was twelve and a half, Makoto had learned the names of all colors, preferred blue skies over grey skies, understood why goldfish were called  _gold_ fish, loved the color green, had an odd fascination with the color red, and wished he would one day figure out who, among the countless kids attending the swim meet, was his soulmate.

** \-----o0o----- **

Rin said, “I want to swim in a pool with cherry blossom petals in it.”

The corners of Haruka’s lips turned downwards ever so slightly. “Why.”

“You’d catch a cold,” Makoto told Rin, and then turned to Haruka. “Because cherry blossom petals are pink and pretty and—“

“It’s romantic,” Rin grinned, limbs relaxed and red hair fluttering under the caress of the spring breeze. Makoto had the strangest urge to reach out and touch those red strands. “Hey, Tachibana, you could see colors too, huh?”

Rin said it like he’d met so many kids their age who could see colors. Rin had also been the only kid their age Makoto knew to be able to see colors.

“Yeah,” he said instead, after a pause, because Rin sounded like he’d met a lot of people and that was cool, and Makoto wasn’t sure how to react to someone like Rin talking to him. “Yeah, I can.”

Rin laughed like a thousand summer bells. When he looked at Makoto, his eyes are a different shade of red from his hair, a shade that reminds Makoto of fire, warm and bright and happy and  _free_ , and of the sky he first saw in colors, wild and gorgeous and so far away. “We’re a lucky bunch.”

Makoto wondered who Rin’s soulmate was. What a lucky person, he thought, to have a soulmate whose eyes are undying flames.

** \-----o0o----- **

“Oh, people meet their soulmates without even realizing it,” his father said, smiling at his wife over the top of Makoto’s head. “By the time you’re twenty, Makoto, most of the people around you would all be able to see colors, but there would only be a handful who know exactly who their soulmates are.”

Twenty sounded old. Makoto couldn’t imagine himself being twenty. He was only on his first year of junior high school, after all.

“Some people meet their soulmates only fleetingly. A glance in the train, a bump in the rush of people crossing the road, a passing look at a group of people walking when you’re in the car. And then you see colors, but most people never find out who their soulmates are all their lives,” his father’s hand found his back, clapping it companionably. “So don’t think too much about it.”

“Are you soulmates?” Makoto asked, waving a hand over to where her mother stood behind the kitchen counter, and his father gave a full-belly laugh.

“I have no idea,” the corners of his father’s eyes were crinkling. “We could be. We could be not. It doesn’t matter if we’re still happy, right?”

“Then how do you know if you’re soulmates or not?”

“Well, you’d have to wait until one of you died,” his father said, voice quieter now, eyes never leaving the figure of his mother. “When your soulmate dies, Makoto, your world goes back to black-and-white.”

That was sad, Makoto thought, and for some reason remembered the unsent letters he’d written for Rin; folded and slipped neatly into envelopes with no address scribbled on the white surface of the paper.

** \-----o0o----- **

“If,” Haruka said, over the smell of mackerel he was cooking, “your soulmate died before you could even meet, does that mean you won’t be able to see colors for the rest of your life?”

Makoto shrugs. “Maybe that’s what people call  _colorblind_ ?”

Haruka stayed silent for a while. Then he said, “That’s ridiculous.”

Makoto glanced at the papers strewn all over the kotatsu, at the black-and-white sketches with fifteen different shades, criss-crossed lines shaping into soft outlines, white and black and different shades of grey that spoke of talent and  _Haruka had always been special_ , and said, “You make black-and-white so pretty though, Haru-chan.”

“Drop the ‘-chan’,” Haruka warned, not missing a beat, and Makoto laughed.

** \-----o0o----- **

_Rin_ , Makoto wrote in one of the unsent letters.  _When did you first start seeing colors_ ?

That was when Makoto first realized he’d been hoping Rin was  _the_ one.

** \-----o0o----- **

One day, on their way to school, after a bus full of high school students passed them by, Haruka suddenly halted in his step, eyes wide, breath catching.

Makoto paused, concerned. “Haru?”

“The ocean,” Haruka breathed, almost like he didn’t hear Makoto at all, eyes fixed on the expanse of water on their left, waves rushing one after another, sparkling under the somber winter sun. “The water. The sky—Makoto, what is  _that_ ?”

Haruka’s eyes were so blue when they next found Makoto’s.

** \-----o0o---- **

Haruka learned the color blue first, and Makoto thought that was only fitting, what with Haruka’s affinity to water.

And then he stopped swimming. Makoto couldn’t understand, but he quit as well because there was no meaning in continuing to swim if he did it alone—if Haruka wasn’t there.

The blue of the water was still enticing. It differed from the shade of sky blue, though—the blue of the water looked somewhat lonely and less inviting now—less wild, now that Haruka only stayed in calm waters of the bathtub. Makoto missed swimming, missed the water caressing his back as he floated up in the pool, letting all the dangers of water pass far down beneath his back and gazing up at the sky, but there was no meaning in it anymore if Haruka wasn’t there.

There was no meaning in swimming alone.

** \-----o0o----- **

Nagisa didn’t start seeing colors until they met him in high school.

“Let’s make a swim club!” Nagisa said brightly, eyes only some shades lighter than Rin’s—and later, Makoto found out, Gou’s—with a smile that took Makoto back to the good old days when they were a team, when they swam together, when each stroke of legs and arms meant getting back to the others faster.

One member short, Amakata-sensei told them. One member short, and their efforts in getting a new member seemed to amount to nothing.

And the next day, Nagisa rushed up the stairs to the rooftop where Makoto and Haruka were about to have lunch, nearly tripped over his own feet, but managed to launch himself bodily onto Makoto, clinging to Makoto’s neck, feet sprawled across Haruka’s lap.

“Nagisa,” Haruka said, with an annoyed tone Makoto recognized as  _you are disrespecting the mackerel, you should be apologizing right now_ .

“Colors!” Nagisa literally shrieked into Makoto’s ear, voice turning higher and higher, hands gripping Makoto’s shoulders tightly,  almost bouncing from the giddiness. “This is so amazing, Mako-chan, you never told me it’d be like this—oh, your eyes are the color of trees, and Haru-chan’s the same as water, that’s beautiful—I’m so lucky, I’m so lucky, I know exactly who it is! I mean, I don’t know who he is, but I just—I was in the hallway and I stopped him because I wanted to ask him to join our club, you know, and then it’s all—it’s not black and white anymore, this is so cool—“

Makoto actually needed a second to  process Nagisa’s increasingly incoherent words. Colors, he thought, and therefore soulmates, and Nagisa knew who his soulmate was.

Nagisa was the luckiest one.

_Nagisa had just found his soulmate._

Makoto broke into a smile, so wide that his cheeks hurt a little. “That’s so great, Nagisa, you’re so lucky! Congratulations!”

“Congratulations,” Haruka agreed, and Makoto could see his eyes soften at how ecstatic Nagisa looked.

Nagisa grinned, shuffling off of Makoto and Haruka’s laps, and there was a touch of relief in his voice when he said, “Thank you Mako-chan, Haru-chan! I’m sorry about the mackerel.”

“It’s fine,” Haruka told him. “You just have to eat it.”

“I’ll eat it if it’s Haru-chan’s cooking!”

** \-----o0o----- **

“Haru,” Makoto murmured the night Haruka stayed over at his place, with the lights off and the both of them tucked under the blankets, him on his own bed and Haruka curling into the same spare futon he’d used in Makoto’s house since they were ten. “Do you ever wonder who it is?”

Haruka made a vague noise. Makoto chuckled.

“Yeah, I suppose you wouldn’t care too much when your first love was a waterfall.”

There was a long silence before Haruka spoke up again, the slightest of sleep already creeping into his words. “You know it doesn’t really matter for most people.”

Makoto swallowed. “I know,” he whispered, and tried not to think of the letters unsent, of Australia, of a grin that reached a beautiful shade of red eyes, and the question plaguing his mind ever since they saw Rin again—huddled in his black jacket with jaded, angered eyes under his hat:  _what happened to you_ ?

** \-----o0o---- **

Rei came into their lives like a fresh breeze; completing their circle, filling out all the previously empty spaces left since Rin’s departure to Australia, and, in some ways, Makoto thought with a touch of guilt, a welcome distraction from all their problems with Rin.

But Rei was part of them, now. Makoto would do anything to keep him in their circle, not just because Rei made Nagisa smile five times brighter, but also because his obsession with beauty had become an endearing trait, his tireless efforts to get better at swimming had earned him respect, and before Makoto realized it, Rei had made his own space in their lives—one that never replaced Rin, and couldn’t be replaced by anyone, either.

And when he saw Rei’s hand reaching out, nearly swallowed by a furious wall of wave, the storm raging overheads as the color black bled into everything, Makoto let his feet propelled him forward and challenged the dark water, completely forgetting his fears for a moment.

Then they slammed back into him with a frightening force, and Makoto stopped, paralyzed.

For a second, before a huge wave rushed into him, Makoto wondered whose world would go back colorless if he didn’t make it out alive.

He thought he should apologize.

** \-----o0o----- **

The sky he saw as he floated on his back, chest bubbling with happiness, was utterly blue.

He knew this sight, he thought, and a smile broke out unbidden.

_Rin and Haru would be so happy._

** \-----o0o----- **

Rin was with Makoto when they caught Nagisa standing on his toes and pecking Rei on the lips. Rei spluttered, red spreading fast across his cheeks to his ears and the back of his neck, and Nagisa’s laughter sounded brighter than the summer chimes.

“Huh,” Rin said, blinking, and Makoto wondered if he was imagining the faint shade of red dusting Rin’s cheeks. “I didn’t know.”

Makoto shrugged. “I guess if you met your soulmate and knew who they were, the next thing to do would be dating them?” He eyed Rin carefully, trying to read through the surprise and second-hand embarrassment that was the redhead’s expression. “Are you okay with, you know—“

“What?” Rin turned a puzzled look at him, before realization dawned. “Oh. Oh, yeah. It’s not like they’re the only same-sex soulmate couple, or something.”

Makoto smiled. “That’s good. Nagisa would be glad. He’s been wondering about how to break it to you.”

“What, that they’re together?” Rin snorted. “I suspected. It’s not like they’re subtle about it. Though this is the first time I heard about them being soulmates,” he admitted, casting another look to the oblivious Rei mussing up Nagisa’s hair, eyebrows furrowing at whatever suggestion it was Nagisa was throwing at him. “It’s rare, knowing who your soulmate is.”

"Yeah,” Makoto said. “They’re lucky.”

“They are,” Rin agreed, jostling Makoto from the side and turned around to take another shortcut to Samezuka’s indoor pool.

** \-----o0o----- **

“I don’t think they’re lucky,” Gou told Makoto straight, expression determined the way she always got when she was convinced that she was doing the right thing. “I mean, yeah, meeting your soulmate makes you lucky, because then you could see the colors, but knowing who your soulmate is? I’d rather not.”

Makoto blinked. “That’s,” he began, but wasn’t quite sure how to end the sentence. “Unusual,” he finished lamely, eyes never leaving Gou’s figure as she unloaded the plastic bags she had brought over—there were drinks, some club supplies, a new pack of batteries. “What brought this on?”

Gou huffed. “You were staring at Rei-kun and Nagisa-kun,” she said. “I could hear you thinking  _ah, they’re so lucky_ .”

“They are, though,” Makoto said. Gou made a tiny growl under her breath and grumbled incessantly. Makoto waited for her to stop muttering, stop making a face like she was about to murder someone, before tentatively raised his voice again. “Gou-chan?”

She threw her hands in the air. “Nothing. I’m not saying that Rei-kun and Nagisa-kun aren’t lucky, just—“ she took a deep breath, and gave Makoto a pointed look. “We fall in love with people who aren’t our soulmates. Okay? Most people don’t find out who their soulmates are their whole lives anyway, and some people find out who it is after they’re involved with someone else. Right?”

“Right,” Makoto said, not quite following, but nodding anyway.

“What I’m saying is,” Gou continued, her hands moving jerkily in anger as she turned her attention back to the plastic bags. “Loving someone is your choice. It shouldn’t matter whether it’s your soulmate or not. Even if you knew who your soulmate is, if you fall in love with another person, it should be okay if you don’t want to be with your soulmate and choose that other person.”

Makoto wasn’t sure how to react to that. “Okay,” he said. “Except they say it’s impossible to deny the attraction between soulmates. I don’t know if that’s true, I mean, I have no idea who my soulmate is, but I heard you’d be attracted to them, would fall for them, whether you want to or not.”

Gou paused, lips thinning. “That’s unfair. What about people who fall in love with people other than their soulmates? Don’t they get to try to make it work?” Her voice hardened. “Aren’t humans supposed to have a choice?”

_Oh_ , Makoto thought,  _I’ve never even thought about that._

** \-----o0o----- **

On a Sunday, Rin sent him a mail:  _Wanna go check the new music store by the shopping district_ ?

_Sure_ , Makoto sent back, before remembering that Haruka was coming over for dinner tonight, but that should be fine, he’d come home before dark. He spent half an hour trying to decide on a dress, in which Ran slipped into his room and watched him change shirts ten times before padding out to the hallway and announcing for the whole house to hear: “Oniichan has a date!”

By the time he made it downstairs, Ren and Ran hanging off his sides, his mother was standing by the stairs with a wide, curious smile and two bento boxes, each wrapped in green furoshiki.

“It’s just Rin,” he informed his mother, but accepted the bento boxes with his cheeks heating up anyway.

“Oh,” his mother smiled. “Good luck, Makoto-chan.”

“Good luck, Oniichan!” The twins chorused as he stepped out of the door and closed it behind him.

It took five minutes for his phone to vibrate, and when he opened the mail from Haruka, it read:  _Heard from your Mom. Good luck with Rin. Bring back mackerel snacks for tonight_ .

** \-----o0o----- **

They went to the beach after spending hours exploring the shopping district, and that was when Rin tugged on the inside of Makoto’s shirt and said, “I have the same one.”

“What, really?”

“Yeah, a birthday gift from my Mom, actually. It’s a size too big for me, so I don’t wear it often, but it’s really comfortable.” Rin stepped up onto the dock, hands slipping inside his pockets, hair billowing in the wind.  “I like that shirt.”

Makoto watched him stand there for a moment—Rin’s silhouette blurring with the shade of ocean’s blue, his hair seemingly turning darker under a sky slowly layered by oranges and reds, the lines of his figure illuminated by the last rays of the sun as it kissed the horizon. He shook himself out of his stupor, falling into steps until he was side by side with Rin, gazing out into the wide expanse of glittering blue reflecting the shadows of birds flying low.

“Oh,” Rin said, face morphing into one of utter excitement. “Makoto, look! I think that’s an albatross!”

Which was rare, and it caused Makoto’s head to snap up, following the direction Rin was pointing. Sure enough, far in the horizon, an albatross dived and swooped low, inches from water, before gracefully rushing up again, slicing through the air tinted with red-and-orange rays of sunset. The sight was gorgeous enough to steal his breath, enough for Rin to laugh a little at him and teased, “What, wishing you were standing here with a girl so you could kiss her at this moment, Tachibana?”

Yes, Makoto thought, except he didn’t wish for a girl, and Rin was here, and it was perfect. Instead, he jostled Rin on the side, laughing, teasing back, “I’m not the one wishing to swim in a pool with cherry blossom petals.”

“Shut up,” Rin snapped, but his voice still held the remnants of laughter, the corner of his lips twitching up as he elbowed Makoto none-too-gently, laughing in earnest at Makoto’s yelp.

And then Makoto surprised himself by asking, “Have you ever wished you could find out who your soulmate is, Rin?”

Rin paused, raising an eyebrow. “Never expected to hear that from you.” He hummed, turning back to the boundless ocean. “Have you?”

“I,” Makoto began, and wondered what was it that made him blurt out the question. “Sometimes,” he said, frowning at himself, and then corrected, “Or not. Not so much as wishing someone to be my soulmate, I guess.”

Rin threw him a playful grin. “Haru?”

“What—“ Makoto spluttered. “No! Not—Haru’s different, not Haru, it’s not  _like_ _that_ —“

"If you’re getting so defensive about it, maybe I should suspect,” Rin shrugged, but something about the way his shoulder jerk didn’t sit well with Makoto. He couldn’t pinpoint what, though, so he decided to let it slide. “Please tell me it’s not the cat.”

“Rin,” Makoto said, more like whined, really. Rin grinned—his patented confident Matsuoka grin, the one that was Makoto’s favorite, because it meant Rin was comfortable. The set of his shoulders relaxed, Makoto noted with a relief, and then told himself to stop being creepy and stop staring at Rin, and turned back to the sunset.

They stood there until the sun disappeared completely in horizon’s embrace, until the last ink of red and yellow and orange on the sky faded into the gentle dark blue of a clear night, until the first star winked down at them. They talked about everything and nothing—their third year, trainings, Haruka, siblings and their hazards—and Makoto forcibly changed the topic when it came to their plans after high school, because he didn’t want to  think about Rin going somewhere far, again.

Rin huffed out a breath, the slightest white puff of air escaping his mouth, a sign that the night is getting colder and this year’s fall might end quickly. “Aah,” he said, and Makoto wished he wasn’t imagining the wistful tone in his voice. “It’s dark already.”

“We should go home,” Makoto said, because it was what he should be saying, even though he wanted to stay a little longer, to have Rin by his side a little longer. Rin didn’t react for a long moment, eyes fixed at the point where the dark sky blended into the color of the ocean, shoulders rigid as he hunched forward a little, hands still in his pants pocket.

“Yeah,” he agreed finally, like it was a struggle to turn away. But he did turn away, stepping away from the dock, and Makoto followed hastily, one hand reaching out before he knew it, grasping at Rin’s jacket. Three fingers slipped because Rin moved too fast, but his ring and little finger hooked, and Rin stopped.

“Makoto?”

“You should come over,” Makoto blurted out, the words a jumble in his head, buzzing in his mind. “For dinner. Sleep over? If you want. Haru’d be there, too. You did sleep over at Haru’s without me. It’s been.” He swallowed, and reluctantly released Rin’s jacket. “It’s been a long while, since.”

Rin stared at him for a long time.

“Yeah,” he answered, finally, with a tone Makoto was too afraid to define. “Yeah, sure. It’s been a long while.”

** \-----o0o----- **

Haruka looked up at Makoto from his futon. Makoto stared back; it was rare, really, but there were times he couldn’t interpret Haruka’s gaze, and this was one of those times.

Rin growled from his own futon—pushed close to Haruka’s—and playfully kicked Haruka from under the blankets. “Can you guys start the domestic stare battle in the morning?”

Haruka turned to him. “Rin, move over.”

“I know,” Rin said, and he made it sound like it was a complaint, but scooted over further from Haruka, leaving a space between the two of them. “Makoto, what the hell are you doing, get down here.”

“Huh?” was what came out of Makoto’s mouth, but both Haruka and Rin were petting the space between the two of them, obviously telling him to abandon his comfortable, springy bed, in favor of the old futons pushed together. “I—nah, it’s—“

“It’ll fit,” Haruka told him.

Rin pushed up and propped his head with a hand, giving him a pointed look. “Be a good host  and suffer in this lumpy futon with us, Tachibana Makoto.”

“Oh. Well then, you can take the bed—“

Rin groaned. “You are so fucking ridiculous,” and then he moved, hands winding around Makoto’s left calf, exchanging a nod with Haruka, who grabbed Makoto’s other foot, and the two of them pulled. Makoto yelped, landing on his butt on the hard floor, and there was Rin’s ringing laughter echoing in the corners of his room, Haruka’s satisfied smirk on the corner of his eyes, and Makoto—he couldn’t help himself but laugh.

The old futons were a tight fit. They were teenagers with growing bodies, and those futons had been the ones they used when they were little, so even with the futons pushed together, it didn’t give a lot of space for three growing boys. Makoto lay flat on his back, Haruka’s back pressing against his right arm and Rin’s against his left arm.

“Fair warning,” Rin said to no one, even though Makoto was sure Haruka was halfway to La La Land. “I’m a messy sleeper. I kick everywhere.”

“Since when,” Haruka mumbled. Rin tried to throw a kick at him over Makoto’s legs, but ended up hitting Makoto’s knee instead.

“Since whenever, shut up.”

“Go to sleep, you two,” Makoto said, and then there was silence, the sounds of breathing evening out, and Makoto stayed wide awake for a long time.

It was warm. He liked the way Haruka’s back shift slightly with each breath, he liked the way Rin pressing his back closer to him like he was gravitating to Makot’s body heat. It was comforting, it was—Makoto hadn’t known he wanted it, pressed close against his two best friends, huddling under the same blankets, going to sleep to wake up to their faces first thing in the morning.

Rin shifted, turned to his side, eyes closed and expression slack.

Makoto’s breath caught in his throat.

Too close, he thought. He should move away. Except he couldn’t—not without waking Haruka up, and Haruka would be so annoyed if he woke him up because Makoto couldn’t handle Rin tossing over in his sleep.

Then Rin moved, one arm slinging to rest across Makoto’s chest, curling closer and ending up half-sprawled on Makoto. His head rested on Makoto’s shoulder now, red strands tickling Makoto’s nose, and Makoto remembered the first time his world turned into colors, remembered the first red he’d fleetingly seen, remembered the way colors rushing and filling in what was previously black and white and shades of grey.

Rin’s breath fell on his exposed collarbone. Makoto closed his eyes, shifted so he had his back against Haruka, still pressed close, and curledhimself up against Rin’s figure.

Just tonight, he said to himself. Just tonight.

** \-----o0o----- **

Maybe not just that night.

The gold medal of the relay race gleamed against Rin’s chest, while the silver ones hang on Makoto, Haruka, Nagisa and Rei’s. It was a pretty color, Makoto noted, cheeks hurting with a wide smile he couldn’t suppress, even if their team lost the final race to Samezuka.

Rin’s locked in a hug with Haruka, eyebrows taut like he was in pain, clutching Haruka so tight like a lifeline, a steady stream of  _“thank you, Haru, thank you so much, fuck, I’m so sorry, thank you,”_ tumbling out of his mouth endlessly. Gou was hugging Rei and Nagisa, refusing to let them go as she sobbed on their shoulders; Rei looking flustered and Nagisa clinging onto Gou like he was about to cry himself.

But then Rin stepped back, found Makoto’s eyes, and grinned. “What the hell are you doing, Makoto.”

Haruka didn’t even bat an eye when Makoto rushed into their hug, arms gripping Haruka and Rin’s shoulders, heads knocking against theirs with a laugh that sounded too close to a sob.

“Congratulations, Rin,” he managed to say, trying to draw both of his best friends closer if it was even possible.

Rin laughed, and even Haruka’s shoulders shook.

“Makoto,” Rin said, eyes finding him, and they were so close, so close, and Rin was grinning, bright and brilliant and dazzling, more than any color Makoto had ever seen in his life. “This is going to sound creepy as fuck, but screw it. I like you. Go out with me.”

Makoto lost his next breath in a rush of disbelief.

“About time,” Haruka said, squeezing both Makoto and Rin’s shoulders, lips stretching in a smile. Rin jostled against his side, a faint red spreading across his cheeks, and Makoto decided that green was still his favorite color, but red—Rin’s red; the shade of his hair, his eyes, his cheeks—was the best color he’d ever seen. 

He loved red. He loved Rin’s red. 

“Yeah,” he choked out, chest heaving with too much emotions. “Yeah.” 

“Oh, thank god,” Rin said, and he surged up, catching Makoto’s lips in a kiss, and Haru pulled their heads down lower, trying to cover whatever part of them he could, knocking his fists against the backs of their heads when they broke the kiss. 

The whole thing felt so surreal, except when he got home to his siblings launching themselves at him and his mother cooking his favorite food and his father offering a fist for him to bump, his phone vibrated with a message from Rin. 

It read: _We’re going out now, right? I’m allowed to send you good night texts?_  

Makoto didn’t reply. After dinner, he went up to his room and decided to call Rin instead. 

**\-----o0o-----**

Rin tried for the Japan National Team after high school. No one was surprised when he got in. He moved to Tokyo, then, only coming back to Iwatobi about once a month, each time with a brighter expression, and Makoto loved the way his laughter sounded happier when he kissed him. 

It took Makoto another two years before he had the courage to take the entrance exam for Tokyo Daigaku. He got in, transferred from Tottori University and continued his medical studies there. Haruka made his manga debut at the same time, and the two of them moved to Tokyo. Rin nagged at them to get an apartment they could rent together—the three of them, because Rin was rarely in Tokyo nowadays, always out training somewhere with the National Team, so having an apartment for himself was not practical. They got a medium-sized apartment with two bedrooms, a studio kitchen and a small living room in the area of Chiba, and it was Haruka who sent Rin’s boxes into Makoto’s room. 

It worked out pretty well, in the end. 

**\-----o0o-----**

“Hey,” Rin murmured against his collarbone, tongue darting to taste beads of sweat on Makoto’s skin. “When did you first see colors, Makoto?” 

Makoto’s brow furrowed, fingers pausing in carding through Rin’s hair and subconsciously pulling his boyfriend closer. “I was twelve, I think. It was the swim meet when you first competed with us? Remember that?”

“The one in spring?” Rin looked up. “I remember Sousuke told me that you were asking about me.” 

“You almost beat me in 100 meter breaststroke, of course I asked about you,” his fingers continued their journey through the red strands under his nose. “I started seeing colors before the races even began though, so it could be anyone—“ 

Rin’s knuckles rapped against his chest. “Mine, too.” 

“Huh?” 

“The first time I see colors was in that swim meet. I can’t remember exactly when, though.” Rin inhaled deeply, like he wanted to take in Makoto’s scent and keep them in his lungs forever. “I saw green first, so trees were the first things I noticed.” 

“Mine’s red,” Makoto told him, still dazed at the fact that they could be soulmates, maybe, and he’d been hoping for that since Rin slowly wormed his way into his life—that they could be soulmates. 

_They could be soulmates._  

Rin pushed himself up, catching Makoto’s lower lips with his teeth, and Makoto turned his head to kiss him properly, deep and thorough, until Rin made noises in the back of his throat and climbed over him, bodies pressing, flushed, and Makoto pulled them even closer, if it was possible. 

They could be soulmates. Makoto wondered it that was why this kiss felt more intimate than the last one. 

**\-----o0o-----**

Gou chose Mikoshiba, in the end. Sousuke was so heartbroken that Rin took him out for a drink one night, and didn’t come back until morning. 

“He’s okay?” Makoto asked when Rin stripped off his shirt, making a face at the smell of alcohol in the fabric. 

“He will be,” Rin answered. “He respects Gou’s choice. He knows it isn’t easy for Gou, either. It’s rare for someone to choose another person over their soulmate.” He paused, expression troubled. “I’m worried about her, too.” 

“It’s Gou,” Makoto said, padding over to Rin and took over his shirt, hands stilling Rin’s as he unbuckled Rin’s belt. “She’ll make it work. It’s how it works with most of people too, anyway.” 

“Yeah, but most people don’t know who their soulmate is.” Rin countered. “We don’t know who our soulmate is. Gou’s different—she consciously chose someone else despite knowing Sousuke is her soulmate and—“ 

Makoto kissed him. Rin growled, because he hated it when Makoto kissed him to shut him up. Makoto chuckled against his lips, drawing back and looked at him. 

“You trust Gou, right?” 

Rin’s face fell; an admission of defeat. Then he looked up again, almost defiant. “Not Mikoshiba.” 

“Liar. You trust Mikoshiba more than you trust your teammates on the National Team.” 

Rin shrugged. “Not more than Sousuke.” 

Makoto laughed. 

**\-----o0o-----**

“I chose,” Gou said with a proud smile. “It took me a long time, but I chose.” 

“Congratulations, Gou-chan,” Makoto told her, mussing up her hair for good measure. Gou grinned—the patented Matsuoka grin, one that Makoto had always loved on Rin, and happy to see on Gou. “You’re amazing.” 

“No more than anyone else,” she said, but her eyes crinkled with how wide her grin was, and Makoto was just so immensely happy for her. 

**\-----o0o-----**

“She’s right,” Sousuke informed Makoto, Rin and Haruka one night when he crashed for supper. “People fall in love with others who aren’t their soulmate all the time. It’s our own choice.” 

Rin snorted. “You have the worst luck, man. The best girl in the universe, out of your hands.” 

“Shut up, you siscon.” 

**\-----o0o-----**

“If it turns out that you aren’t my soulmate,” Rin said roughly against Makoto’s ears, breaths tumbling out of his mouth in irregular pants and half-groans, “I’d still choose you.” 

Makoto opened his mouth to say “Me, too,” but his voice caught in his throat when Rin _moved_ , finding his pace, and his world exploded in bursts of pleasure. 

**\-----o0o-----**

Being with Rin, Makoto supposed, meant that his world would never settle for an expected situation. Maybe it was because Rin couldn’t ever stop running, maybe it was because Rin was a presence who blazed his way into people’s lives, pulling Makoto and everyone along as he went. It meant that everything in his life happened the way a thunder cracked the sky: surprising and unexpected and oftentimes frightening.

That included the time he finally found out who his soulmate was. 

He was immersed deep in a medical journal when his world suddenly flickered—colors fading into shades of grey, black and white, before rushing back to fill his sight. He blinked, had a second to wonder if it was just his imagination, if his eyes had been too tired to continue reading, if he should take a nap after two consecutive all-nighters trying to get his report done. 

The phone down the hall rang. Haruka’s footsteps padded on the wooden floor outside, his voice answering the phone drifting up seconds later. Makoto closed his eyes, pressing the heel of his hand against them. 

When he opened his eyes, everything was black and white. 

His heart plummeted into his stomach, throat constricting, and Makoto pushed his chair back, stumbling to get to his feet, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. His father’s words, a long time ago, echoed in his ears: _“When your soulmate dies, Makoto, your world goes back to black-and-white.”_  

His breath caught. He blinked, and colors rushed back into his world. It was a split-second relief, however, because the colors were fading again, shades of grey peppering his sight, and then the colors come back, only to fade again. 

“No, no,” Makoto breathed out. Colors, fading in, fading out. So vivid in a split-second, then lost their vibrance and blurred into black and white. “No.” 

He understood, in a way. Dying. Somewhere in this world, whoever it was, his soulmate was _dying_. 

Hurried footsteps came closer, and then the door was slammed open. “Makoto!” 

Haruka. It was Haruka, face almost as white as Makoto’s lab coat, eyes wide and wild in a way Makoto hadn’t ever remembered seeing. Makoto reached up, feeling like he was about to throw up, and Haruka’s face contorted. He rushed inside, taking Makoto’s hands and steadying him. 

“What is it?” there was a tiny tremor in his voice. “Makoto, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t—know. I’m not sure.” Makoto took a deep breath. “I think—I think it’s my soulmate.” 

“What?” Haruka’s eyes widened. 

“It’s turning back to black and white,” Makoto shook his head, trying to clear his head. It’s dizzying—the heady rush of fear, the panic buzzing in his mind. “Whoever it is, somewhere—I think they’re dying.” 

Haruka made a choking noise. Makoto looked up, stared at Haruka’s wide-eyed expression, at the utter fear in every inch of his face, at the skin rapidly loosing its color. 

“Haru?” 

“Sousuke,” Haruka said, voice tight, almost like he was strangling himself, and Makoto wondered if he was going to cry. “The call just now. Rin—“ 

The colors faded out again, and this time Makoto’s thought his heart had stopped. “What?” 

“A boat capsized,” Haruka said, and that was when Makoto noticed how hard Haruka was gripping his arm. “Rin’s in it.” 

- **\----o0o-----**

For the next twenty-nine hours, Makoto’s world flickered steadily. 

Colors. Black and white. Reds, fading out to black. It was almost like watching the world slowly turning old; everything turning into muted black and white, and then flickering back as colors rushed back in. He didn’t sleep, tried not to blink as long as he could, too scared that when he opened his eyes back, his world would permanently turned into black and white. 

God. Rin had only gone to Kagoshima with the National Team for another training session. The waves hadn’t even been high this season, according to him. The boat was full of professional swimmers, but three of them were now fighting for their lives, and the very notion should sound ridiculous, except Makoto knew very well that the ocean would take anyone it wanted. 

Humans never stood a chance against its rage. 

They’d caught the next flight to Kagoshima straight away. Haruka and Gou sat next to him at all times. Gou was trembling, eyes wide and frightened, a steady stream of prayers falling silently from her lips, Mikoshiba hovering not far from her. Haruka’s presence was a steady anchor, his hand a welcomed weight on Makoto’s shoulder, squeezing like it would give Makoto strength to hold on. 

The three of them didn’t catch a wink of sleep after they arrived at the hospital. It was Sousuke who came out to see them, one arm in sling, and Gou rushed forward to meet him in a hug. Mikoshiba, to his credit, patted Sousuke’s back rather awkwardly, to which Sousuke reacted with a grateful smile. He brought them up to the ICU room where they kept Rin, and Makoto fell onto the waiting chair, exhausted and scared. 

Rin was pale, hooked into various mechanisms that made it hard for Makoto to breathe. His head was bandaged, and Makoto would bet his life that there were more bandages under the blanket covering Rin’s figure. He let out a shuddering breath, listening to the steady beep that indicated Rin’s heartbeat, and closed his hands into fists. 

His world was still flickering for the next six hours. 

**\-----o0o-----**

When Rin woke up, colors rushed back into Makoto’s world, vivid and brilliant and dazzling, sending relief slamming into him even as he stood by the door, giving way for the doctors and nurses to check on Rin’s vitals. Rin’s eyes were blinking up slowly as his head turned to the door, gaze focusing on Makoto, and then he smiled. 

Makoto ducked his head and swallowed a sob.

**\-----o0o-----**

He clung onto their embrace the way he never did before, trembled in Rin’s arms, burying his face in the curve of Rin’s neck, gasping out shuddering breath as he cried silently against Rin’s skin. He was exhausted. Completely drained and scared and relieved beyond words. Rin was burying his face into his hair, jaw moving, and Makoto thought he was apologizing. 

It wasn’t your fault, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t seem to find his voice, so he clutched Rin tighter. 

Later, much later, when Makoto could function without having to drop a kiss on any of Rin’s exposed skin and Rin could finally sit up without needing to be helped, Makoto slid under the blanket next to Rin, careful so that he wouldn’t hurt Rin further. Rin shifted carefully, let Makoto curl himself around him like he was trying to cocoon Rin and shield him from the whole world, which Makoto knew it was impossible, considering the kind of person Rin was, but he was sure Rin would humor him for a while, now. 

“So,” Makoto murmured. “You were going to take away all the colors from my world.”

Rin stiffened in his hold, muscles going rigid as he stared at Makoto in disbelief. “Shit. Really?”

“It was scary,” Makoto admitted. “I didn’t—I don’t want—Rin, don’t do that to me again. Please.” 

“Hey,” Rin’s fingers threaded into his hair. “At least one good thing came out of this.” He paused, and Makoto listened to the steady pound under his ear. Thump-thump-thump. Rin, alive and bringing colors to his world, more than they had both realized. “Uh. Sorry.” 

Makoto shook his head. “It’s not your fault,” he said, and leaned up to seek Rin’s lips. 

Rin met him halfway.

**\-----o0o-----**

Until the very end, Makoto never spent a day in his life without colors anymore. 

Rin spent two and a half year, but when Makoto finally came to pick him up, colors rushed back into his sight for the last time. 

It was enough to take his breath away. 

**\-----o0o-----**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [String of Fate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2081835) by [rinthegreat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinthegreat/pseuds/rinthegreat)




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